


Hockey with Vanya

by bumblybee



Series: Adventures with Vanya [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblybee/pseuds/bumblybee
Summary: “I’d like to introduce our guest for today, Evgeni Malkin, author ofHockey with Vanya.” Sidney nails the pronunciation, and Malkin even glances up at him with a little smile. “Mr. Malkin is going to read us his book, and then you'll all have the opportunity to talk to him. How does that sound?”Or, the bookstore/children's author AU no one wanted.





	Hockey with Vanya

**Author's Note:**

> This is 1.) entirely self-indulgent and 2.) my first contribution to hockey fandom, so I apologize in advance if anything isn't quite up to par.

The best—and worst—time of year at Crosby Children’s Books is the summer. Between trying to schedule author readings and signings, hiring summer employees, and generally having more children than usual descending on the tiny shop, the week after school lets out right up to the week before it starts again is a time filled with trials that Sidney is always sure will break him and the shop. But they both always make it out to the other side, and usually with more profit than during the school year.

Besides, with actual employees helping out, Sidney's able to see more of the kids, which is really what it’s all about in the end.

One of his temporary employees, Rachel, looks up from helping a parent and her large stack of board books when Sidney walks in. He’d been putting up flyers around town for the summer program, asking local coffeeshops and restaurants if they wouldn’t mind letting him advertise. There's always more success if Sidney went himself, otherwise he’d send someone else; he has a good reputation in town, and sending an employee to do Sidney’s usual work isn't always a popular choice with the locals.

“Some guy came in,” Rachel says once the customer’s left. “Asked if we could stock his book. I said the boss was out, and he left some stuff behind for you.” She picks up a book, wrapped in brown butchers paper, with an envelope taped to the front.

“He mentioned hockey,” she adds in a singsong, grinning and wiggling her eyebrows, and Sidney rolls his eyes.

“I have other hobbies, you know.”

“Really? Because last I checked, the biggest display in the store isn’t about _golf_.”

He really shouldn’t have hired high schoolers, Sidney thinks.

 

* * *

 

Sidney doesn’t get around to actually looking at the package until a couple days later. Wednesdays are always a little slow, especially right around lunch, and Sidney decides to start in on the stack of independently-published books he’s accumulated over the last couple months.

The most recent one is on top, the only one actually wrapped up, and Sidney peels the envelope off the paper and opens it to find a letter.

 _To whom it may concern,_ it reads, typed out on plain copy paper. _My name is Evgeni Malkin. Enclosed is a copy of my newest book,_ Hockey with Vanya, _the first in a series intended for children who are native Russian speakers trying to learn English. This is important to me, as I came to Canada speaking very little English myself. I have visited your store before, and I know you have both a hockey and foreign language display. I thought you might be interested in my book and that it might make a good addition to your displays. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact me personally. Thank you._

The signature at the bottom of the page isn’t the stamp that Sidney is used to with such letters, but is instead signed with an actual pen; the ink has bled through to the other side of the page in spots, and it’s illegible enough to assure Sidney that it’s genuine. Below that is Malkin’s contact information, as well as the information for his English editor.

Sidney has received books directly from the author before, that much isn’t new, but cover letters usually only come from publishers themselves and are vague and generalized, printed on higher-quality paper to make a good impression. Crosby Children’s Books is not large enough to warrant personalization, and usually Sidney doesn’t take the time to read the letters anyway. But he’s intrigued, so he moves on to the book itself, a hardcover picture book.

The cover is admittedly very cute. It’s in a soft watercolor style, with an inked penguin on the front, whom Sidney assumes is Vanya. There are mountains in the background, as well as a frozen pond, watercolored in various shades of blue and purple. Vanya the penguin is holding his hockey stick proudly, his helmet on and his skates laced up with neat little bows.

 _Hockey with Vanya_ , the title reads in a font that looks like a child’s handwriting. It’s foiled with holographic paper that shimmers whenever Sidney shifts the book. And then, in smaller print just beneath Vanya’s skates: _Written and illustrated by Evgeni Malkin_.

The pages are a heavy matte paper, and the same illustration style from the cover continues throughout the book; the paper makes the watercolor look almost as if it had been painted right on the page. The plot is fairly basic: Vanya and his parents have moved away from home, and are now living in Canada. He gets homesick occasionally, wishing for the comforts of Russia that he can no longer have, but he loves hockey, and he learns to make new friends on his Canadian midget team. The English is straightforward, with Russian words thrown in every once in a while, but the pictures make it easy to understand anyway, even for someone like Sidney, who otherwise wouldn’t be able to make head or tail of it.

Sidney actually takes his time reading it—he tends to just skim the pictures books to make sure it’s something he’d actually want to carry in the store, but something feels different about this one. He’s not sure quite what it is, but when he’s finished it, he feels the urge to pick it up and read it again right away. He holds the book for a moment in the post-reading haze that only comes with finishing a good story, then flips it over to the back cover, where there’s a picture of Malkin and a short blurb.

_Evgeni Malkin grew up in Magnitogorsk, Russia, and immigrated to Halifax in 2004. He loves hockey, painting, and animals, and is a loyal Pittsburgh Penguins fan. This is his first children’s book._

The picture is in black and white, Malkin giving the camera a goofy-looking smile that could only serve to endear him to parents and children alike.

Sidney’s a little sad he wasn’t able to meet Malkin when he walked into the store—though perhaps that was for the best.

He doesn’t realize he’s been staring at the back cover until Rachel knocks on his office door, opening it a crack and peeping her head in.

“Sid?” she asks. “Sorry, I know it’s your lunch break, but I’ve got a parent asking if we’re already doing tickets for the Hughes reading next month. I know we’ve got them ready, but—”

Sidney feels guilty, almost as though he’s been caught out, even though he hasn’t done anything. “I’ll talk to them, thanks, Rachel.” He tucks the letter inside the book quickly, adding it to the top of the stack of books to order, and heads out.

 

* * *

 

Sidney mostly forgets about the book until the order he’d placed arrives. He’d only ordered five copies, a couple for both the hockey and foreign language displays, as well as an extra for the featured local authors shelf.

He sets up the hockey display himself, making sure each book is visible and just so, and usually leaves Rachel to organize the others. He places _Hockey for Vanya_ on the bottom tier of the display, right in the middle, where hopefully it’ll be picked up and flipped through at some point. He doesn’t have high hopes for them to sell all that quickly—they’re certainly not intended for a very wide audience—but Malkin’s local, and Sidney appreciates the intent behind the book all the same. He knows that, as long as someone takes the time to read it and see the artwork, they’ll want to buy it, just as Sidney enjoyed it more than he though he would when he read it.

Still, he’s surprised when all five copies are gone within three days.

“We’ve had people coming in and asking for them,” Rachel tells him when he brings it up. “I have two people on a special order list already.”

“We’ll order five plus whatever special orders you end up with at the end of the day,” Sidney decides, because there’s no way they’ll end up selling more than ten copies.

They end up with four special orders, plus the five Sidney ordered for the displays. The special orders are sent to their respective addresses, and when the store copies arrive, Sidney hasn’t even finished placing them on the hockey display when a mother and her daughter start hovering a few feet away. As soon as Sidney finishes with the display, they grab a copy and head to the front register.

“Did you know, we just got these in today?” Rachel tells them. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re gone by the end of the week.”

Her prediction is a little off—they’re gone in five days.

“We’ll get ten this time,” Sidney says, because there’s no way, absolutely no way they’ll sell twenty copies of it in three weeks.

They don’t.

It takes two and a half.

“Hey, Sid, I think I know why we can’t keep it in stock,” Rachel says, pointing at her phone. She’s pulled up a Twitter account, the profile picture matching the one of Malkin on the back of _Hockey with Vanya_. Most of the account consists of retweets, both of Pittsburgh hockey and animals in shelters needing forever homes, but the most recent tweet he’s written himself is dated two weeks ago: _Everyone!!! Get my book #HockeyWithVanya @CrosbyChildrens ))))._ There’s text in Russian after that, but it appears to have the same message, using the same hashtag and tagging the bookstore. It’s the only tweet he’s written about the book being sold in stores, which—explains a lot, actually. 

The bookstore’s Twitter account has been steadily gaining followers since Rachel took it over—Sidney had never really had any patience for it, and he’d only created the account so people could find the shop’s address and phone number more easily. There’d been an unusually large influx recently, though, and while Rachel had thought it was just a reflection of her own hard work, it seems like that isn’t the case. Malkin has several hundred thousand followers, and a shout-out like that could definitely be the source of both their newfound Twitter following and their inability to keep the book on their shelves.

“We should ask him if he wants to do something for the summer program,” Rachel suggests. “He’d probably be a hit.”

“But we’ve printed the schedule and everything,” Sidney says, though he’s already contemplating where they could fit Malkin in. He glances at the poster-sized schedule they had printed, hanging in front of one of the windows. There’s not a lot going on at the beginning of August, and there’s a stretch of four days that they don’t have an event scheduled…

Rachel taps the “follow” button on Malkin’s profile. “You still have that letter he wrote, right? You should email him and see if he’s interested.”

 

* * *

 

Sidney sends Malkin the standard email he usually sends to agents—we have a summer program geared toward children of different ages; it’s important to us to give the kids the opportunity to meet and speak with their favorite authors; these are the dates currently available; we would very much love to have you. He’s not expecting a response, at least not for a while, but he gets a reply within an hour, and it’s from Malkin himself, not his English editor.

 _I love to come and do this_ , he says. _Maybe I read, do signing, talk to kids?_

Sidney’s authors tend to only want to either a reading or a signing, but considering Malkin’s apparent popularity, he agrees, knowing it will probably take up more of their budget than any of the other author events for the summer—but then, they haven’t had a book sell like Malkin’s in a very long time. Malkin is scheduled for the fifth of August, and after giving him the necessary information, Sidney leaves Rachel to man the shop while he has new schedules and tickets printed.

 

* * *

 

“Evgeni Malkin,” Sidney mumbles to himself, unlocking the front door of the bookstore. It’s an hour until the store opens, two hours until Malkin is scheduled to start his reading, but there’s already a line of three or four families waiting outside. Sidney can’t remember the last time that’s happened. He offers to let the families inside—it always seemed kind of cruel to make people wait outside for so long—and he organizes a line out of the way for them to wait.

Sidney starts getting the Reading Corner ready, dragging the table from the back out and setting it up. Malkin is supposed to be bringing his own signs and promotional materials, which makes Sidney’s job relatively easy until he shows up. He sets up the Crosby Children’s Books Summer Program sign in its usual spot, and pulls out the nice reading chair they save for special readings.

“Evgeni Malkin,” he says quietly, setting up the chairs in the back for parents.

When Rachel shows up, he has her help him carry the boxes of books behind the table, getting them open and ready, and Sidney scrounges around the shop for some Sharpies.

“Evgeni Malkin,” Sidney says to himself, looking in every nook and cranny until he eventually finds three Sharpies that aren’t too blunt yet. “Evgeni—“

“Trying to remember who we’re supposed to be hosting?” Rachel teases, and Sid rolls his eyes.

“Trying not to trip over my own tongue saying his name,” Sidney replies. “I don’t want to get it wrong.”

“You won’t,” Rachel says, with more confidence in her voice than Sidney thinks he has in himself.

With half an hour left, Sidney and Rachel have done all they needed to do, and there’s no sign of Malkin. With twenty minutes left, Sidney sends Malkin a text to make sure he’s on his way. With fifteen minutes left, Sidney starts to worry.

“I hope he doesn’t have a lot of things to set up,” he says uncertainly, looking at the line that’s formed. It’s gone out the door, and while Sidney’s glad that they managed to sell out of tickets for the first time in three summers, he’s a little worried about fitting everyone in and getting started on time.

Malkin shows up five minutes before the scheduled reading, a flat cardboard poster sleeve tucked under one arm and a backpack on his other shoulder. He’s a little more casually dressed than most authors are when they come for a reading, wearing a white button-down and and atrocious pair of jeans, but—

It’s going to be a rough couple hours for Sidney; he can tell just by looking at Malkin.

He seems different in person, taller and bigger and bulkier, and the picture on the back of the book really doesn’t do him justice. Sidney would think he’s more imposing if he doesn’t stop to wave at some of the kids in line who recognize him, his face lighting up.

"Mr. Malkin," Sidney says, offering his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," Malkin repeats, shaking Sidney's hand and grinning. Malkin's hand almost completely envelops Sidney's own, and—

And oh, Sidney's going to be in trouble. 

“You’re a little late,” Sidney says, his voice not quite as firm as it might have been had it been any other author. 

Malkin shrugs. “Not ten yet,” he says. “Still early.”

Apparently Sidney will need to clarify what ‘early’ means in future emails.

Sidney helps him with his posters, taping a sign that says ‘Evgeni Malkin’ in English and Russian to the signing table. Malkin uses the spare poster stand Sidney had set up for a large print of the cover of _Hockey with Vanya_ , the title holographic in the same was as the book. After Malkin pulls out a plush penguin and a copy of the book from his backpack, he stares at the reading chair, frowning.

“Is it—do you want a different chair?” Sidney asks, concerned.

“I have to use chair?” Malkin asks. “Or can I sit on floor?”

Sidney blinks. “No, yeah, absolutely.” He pulls the chair back—and then Malkin’s helping him, and they’re able to lift it and move it far enough out of the way that no one should be tripping over it.

They’ve finished setting up with a minute to spare, and Malkin is looking all too pleased about that, sitting on the floor with his legs criss-crossed.

Rachel starts letting the kids and parents trickle in, making sure everyone has a ticket and tearing off the little perforated number on the edge. They’ll do a drawing later for a free copy of the book and a picture with Malkin, their usual giveaway during their author events, but the kids are already running past her before she can explain. 

Malkin is practically beaming as the kids come in and sit down. They're all around the age of five—the suggested age Sidney had included on the flyers—and as is to be expected with five-year-olds, there’s a range of personalities in the room. Some kids are clinging to their parents, unwilling to sit apart from them.Others are hanging out somewhere near the middle of the room, chatting with friends or just watching from a distance. A handful have chosen to sit right in front of Malkin, asking him questions.

“I’ve read the book five times,” one kid brags to him.

“You know Vanya so well then,” Malkin says.

“Yeah, well, I’ve read it a _hundred_ times,” another kid says, making Malkin laugh.

“You read it a hundred times, you read it more than me!”

Rachel eventually gives Sidney the thumbs-up, and they’re ready to start.

“Okay, everyone,” Sidney says over the clamor, and while the room generally gets a little more quiet after some hushing from parents, Sidney can tell that no one’s paying much attention to him—he’s not the most interesting man in the room, after all, since he’s not the one dancing a plush penguin across the carpet. “I’d like to introduce our guest for today, Evgeni Malkin, author of _Hockey with Vanya_.” Sidney nails the pronunciation, and Malkin even glances up at him with a little smile. “Mr. Malkin is going to read us his book, and then you'll all have the opportunity to talk to him. How does that sound?”

A few kids humor him with nods or a less-than-attentive _yay_ , but Malkin’s the one with their undivided attention, even though he was at least trying to direct attention to Sidney while Sidney was speaking.

At least they’re not going to be a rowdy group, he thinks. He moves toward the back, behind the parents, and Rachel hands him the camera while she goes to man the register.

“Before I start, I apologize for my English,” Malkin says. “I maybe sound a little bit funny, but that’s okay. Vanya sound a little bit funny, too; you’ll see.” He pauses. “Everybody hear okay? Move up if you want, I not bite too much.”

A few kids scoot up a foot or so, while others right in front of Malkin move even closer. Sidney’s tempted to offer the chair to him again, but Malkin makes no indication that it bothers him whatsoever.

“This is Vanya,” he says, holding up the penguin. “He come from a very far place, the same place I come from: Russia. Anybody know something about Russia?”

Some kids blurt out their answers, while others raise their hands. Malkin gives attention to each child who offered an answer, even when it takes a while to get to everyone.

“Russia is very cold place, like Canada,” Malkin says. “A lot of things in Russia and Canada the same. Russia have best hockey, though.”

That causes a mild uproar, but nothing that has to be quelled down by parents or Sidney himself. Malkin is still in control of the atmosphere, and he laughs as some of the kids try to defend Canada’s honor, rocking back a little, hands on his knees.

It’s unbearably cute, and Sidney snaps a picture, though when he looks down at the screen, he realizes he zoomed in a little too far on Malkin when he was smiling; none of the kids are in the picture.

“Vanya just move to Canada, you know,” Malkin continues once the kids have quieted again. “It’s a big scary thing, to move, and even more scary to move to new place with new language. Anybody move before?” Some kids raise their hands. “Anybody move from other country to Canada?” There are less hands this time, but still a good number. He asks each of them where they moved from, and while most of the answers are English-speaking countries, a couple are actually from Russia.

“It’s important to be nice to new kids from other place. I’m not even kid, and I’m scared when I come to Canada.” There’s scattered laughter, and Malkin smiles. “But I make friends, and now I like Canada. Not so much as Russia, but Canada not as good as Russia, so it make sense.” A fews kids pretend to protest again, but Malkin just laughs.

“Okay! No more boring talk, let’s read about Vanya.” He cracks open the book and begins to read, holding the book up high enough that even the kids at the very back are able to see. Sidney starts taking more pictures, making sure that the camera is zoomed out enough to actually get the kids in frame, and he’s pretty sure he’s got a few good ones for the website. Malkin continues at the same snail’s pace with his reading, asking the kids questions and explaining some of the Russian words.

“Borscht is a soup made of beets,” he says, and some of the kids make faces. “Why you act like you don’t like? You ever have beets before? Borscht is best soup, better than tomato. You ask your mama or papa to make for you, you see I’m right.” A handful of kids turn to look at their parents dubiously, who laugh, and Malkin looks up at Sidney for a moment and smiles before focusing on the kids again.

By the time the reading is over, they’re behind schedule, but the kids look more excited than he’s seen at a reading all summer, and it isn’t as though they have anything else scheduled for the rest of the day. They do the drawing after the reading, and Rachel holds the hat—Sidney’s lucky old Canadiens hat—out to Malkin, who makes a face.

“Habs fans?” he says, and some of the kids laugh, but he reaches in and makes a show of choosing a number anyway. The little girl who wins holds up her book proudly next to Malkin in preparation as Sidney holds up the camera.

“You want to hold Vanya for picture?” Malkin offers, and her eyes go wide as she holds the plush penguin in one hand, beaming.

Once that's done, they corral the kids and parents into a line for the signing, getting Malkin set up. He puts Vanya on the corner of the table, right next to him, and looks at Sidney.

“Ready,” he says, and Sidney frowns.

“You can take a little break if you want,” Sidney offers. “We can get you a water, or a snack, or—“

“Water sounds good, please,” Malkin says after a pause, “but ready for signing now.”

Rachel returns after a moment with a bottle of water, and Malkin takes a swig before the first kid walks up to the table. Sidney checks tickets and sells books next to Malkin, although a good number of kids already have their own copies, corners beaten and pages dog-eared with love.

They always sell more tickets for signings than readings, and with kids this young, Sidney knows it’ll take a while to get to everyone. But Malkin is taking his time, just as he had with the reading.

“Hi, what your name?” he asks each child, and he personalizes every book he signs, adding a quick little doodle penguin to the end of his signature, the Sharpie looking almost like a toothpick in his hand. He asks the shyer kids more questions, trying to get them to open up, and he lets the talkative ones go on and on until Sidney nudges him to keep the line moving. He lets each kid give Vanya a little pet, too.

“Gentle,” he kindly tells a little boy who knocks the penguin over. “Vanya is just little guy—do like this.” Even with his giant hands, Malkin pets the penguin’s head with the lightest touch, and when the boy tries again, he manages just as well.

A little girl comes up, a little shy, and her mother murmurs to her as she guides her up in front of Malkin.

“I like your shirt,” Malkin tells her, pointing at the little cat logo. She says something in what Sidney assumes is Russian in response, and Malkin seems delighted, immediately striking up a conversation. Sidney’s put in the awkward position of having to nudge Malkin when he’s in the middle of speaking with her, but he doesn’t skip a beat, and the little girl gets her book, pets Vanya, and moves on.

They get to the end of the line just before the allotted time is up, and Sidney offers Malkin the choice of stopping.

“No, we wait,” he says, grabbing for a book form behind Sidney. He opens it up to the title page, grabs a fresh Sharpie, and starts doodling. “Minute I go, kid come in, ask for me to sign, and I’m not here. I don’t want that.” Malkin pauses, turning to look at Sidney properly. “You have good store. I come a couple times, just for look—research, you know, how to write good children’s book.”

Sidney’s pretty sure he’d remember if Malkin had ever come into the store before, but he had mentioned the displays in his letter when he’d first sent the book for Sidney to read. “I’m glad we were helpful. There aren’t enough children’s bookstores in Nova Scotia.”

“Not enough,” Malkin agrees. “It’s important, kids learn to read, learn to like to read.” He looks Sidney up and down, just a quick flick of his gaze, but it’s enough to make Sidney’s cheeks heat. “You have kids, Mr. Crosby?”

“Sid,” Sidney says, the word coming out a little too quickly. “And no, I don’t. Do you?”

“No.” Malkin looks up at him again. “Call me Geno. Is easier to say.”

“Oh. Geno, then.” Sidney nods. “You’re really good with them,” he adds, because Malkin— _Geno_ —is looking at him again. “We get a lot of authors in, and most of them do okay, but a lot of them aren’t actually great with kids. Especially not kids this young.”

Geno nods, and he’s prevented from saying anything when a boy comes up and asks for his book to be signed. Geno puts the book he’d been doodling in to the side, and draws the boy a little penguin with a baseball hat to match his own. They chat, and he hands the book over with a smile and a wave.

“I always want kids,” Geno admits a few minutes later. “If I can’t have, this is next best thing.”

“Yeah,” Sidney says, feeling a familiar pang in his chest.

Geno looks at him curiously, then grabs his doodle book and starts again. There’s an extended but not uncomfortable silence until the next kid arrives, and Geno greets them with just as much excitement as the others.

 

* * *

 

Sidney and Rachel help Geno pack up afterward, and then Geno hangs around to help put the signing table and poster stands up, too.

“You want I take extra books?” Geno asks, and Sidney glances at Rachel and shrugs.

“It’s not as though we have a lot of them,” he says, “and I have a feeling they’ll be gone pretty quickly, if they keep going at the same rate.”

Geno smiles at him then, a big beaming one, and Sidney feels something flutter in his stomach that he has to push back down.

The money situation is discussed briefly, and once everything has been counted and both parties are aware of their share, Geno makes to leave. He tucks Vanya carefully inside his backpack, and then heads for the door before remembering something and walking back toward Sidney. He pulls a white plastic grocery bag out of his backpack and hands it over.

“Is thanks, for let me do this,” Geno says. “I have a lot of fun.”

He smiles again, and Sidney can’t help but return it, taking the package. “You really didn’t have to do that. It worked out well for both of us, I think. And you’re definitely welcome back when your next book is out.”

“I come for sure, then,” Geno promises, grinning. “Have to hurry up and finish it now.”

Sidney laughs. “Yeah, well, you know, no hurry. I’m sure you could do another reading of _Hockey with Vanya_ later in the year and it’d still be a big hit.”

“Maybe I do.” Geno puts his backpack over his shoulder again. “Thank you for have me, Sid.”

“Thanks for coming,” Sidney says, and Geno waves as he leaves.

 

* * *

 

The day continues as normal; they don’t have any more customers than they usually do on summer weekday afternoons, which is admittedly not very many, though some kids look a little disappointed that they missed some kind of event. Sidney sets up the leftover copies of _Hockey with Vanya_ at the appropriate displays, glad that they won’t have to worry about stock for at least a little while. He tries to keep his mind off the event, and Geno himself, though Rachel certainly isn’t helping in that respect.

“Have you checked Twitter?” she asks. “He’s tweeted since he left. ‘ _Had good time @CrosbyChildrens for #HockeyWithVanya_ ,’ a bunch of exclamation points, ‘ _nice to meet everyone who came, hope to see you again,’_ and then just a lot of parentheses. And look.” She hands the phone over, where she’s pulled up a picture attached to the tweet: one of Geno’s doodles, a little penguin with a book in its arms and a big smile on its face.

“I’m retweeting it,” Rachel informs him, taking the phone back and tapping away. “Hey, did you check whatever it was he gave you?”

“No.” Sidney turns to the front desk. He has a vague idea of what it was—he can kind of see through the bag, after all—but he opens it all the same. It is indeed another copy, but when Sidney opens the front cover, the entire title page, previously just a wash of blue and purple watercolor, is covered in doodles. Some are penguins playing hockey, others are penguins with Canadian flags, and still others are sketches of Sidney’s profile, which—when did Geno have the time to draw all those? Sidney had noticed he was drawing, but it just looks like a lot of work for a short period of time.

To be fair, though, he’d been more focused on Geno himself than whatever he had been working on.

At the very bottom of the page is a series of numbers, blocky and drawn close together, and just beneath that, in sloppy letters, ‘ _For Sid, thank you. -Geno._ ’

It takes Sidney a moment to realize the series of numbers are actually a phone number, and he feels his chest swell.

“I need to make a phone call,” he says.


End file.
